Reflections
by Medeina
Summary: Oneshot-Narcissa Black is no stranger to hate for herself, and sometimes, it's all just too much. Mentions Bulimia. Heavy T.


**A/N: Alright this one is a little bit dark. It contains heavy mention of bulimia. Please do not read under any circumstances if the content is a trigger for you.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story. This story was not written for any monetary gain, nor will it ever be used for it. The image for this story is _Girl in a Mirror_ by Pablo Picasso. It is not mine. I make no profit from the use of this image.  
**

**WARNING: This story is about bulimia. I repeat, please do not read if any sensitive content may be a trigger for you.**

Narcissa stared into her reflection, frowning slightly. There it was, the bulge of fat in her stomach, staring her down and making her want to fall to where in slouched, down into Hell. Then she looked at her thighs, seeing how, even when she stood with her feet apart, the upper portion still touched. She turned to the side, looking at her profile. The bulge was more pronounced now, and her thighs where big enough that there was no difference between them and her butt. Even as she stared, the food, pulling down on her belly was an agony. Instead of the satisfaction of cleansing herself of hunger, she felt the guilt of having gone from the self controlled woman she had been, into the impulse controlled beast that feasted long past its right.

She looked at the bath, which she had just stepped out of, filled with glittering bubbles and intoxicating fragrances. She didn't deserve any of it. She was weak, spineless, and most of all _lazy_. She didn't do anything to deserve the splendors which she received. Narcissa's eyes filled once again as she saw how horrible she was, how undeserving, how ugly, both inside and out.

Her eyes drifted to the toilets, each in its own stall. Her dinner sat heavily in her stomach, a testament to the mistakes she had repeatedly made. Before she even realized she had moved, she stood at the door to one of the stalls, staring at the white porcelain toilet. Then her finger went in her mouth, then her hand, pushing and prodding against the soft skin there. At first nothing happened, then the food rushed up, then out, finally relieving her of the guilt that had weighed so heavily on her shoulders. She sat there, watching as her tears mixed with her own vomit, until all of the food was gone and she was empty again.

Narcissa stood up, turning and pushing open the black wooden door to the stall. Behind her, the sound of running water signaled that all evidence was gone, leaving her exactly as she had been before. The water in the sink was cold to her hands as she plunged them in, but it was relief to the horrible tastes in her mouth. That was always, to her, the worst part. It didn't really ever hurt, not anymore, and the smell was bearable, but the taste. It was horrible. The water and the harsh mouthwash she used, however, washed the tastes away.

Narcissa sighed, then returned to her bath. The water felt hot, to the point of burning under her skin. Sighing, she walked through the water to the tap, where ornate metal knobs controlled the heat of the water. The knob squeaked as she turned it to cold and icy water began to torrent out of the spouts.

She sank her body into the water once again, relishing in the soothing cold. Her head pounded in time with her heartbeat, faster than normal. She looked down at her stomach. It was still slightly swelled although she knew there was no food inside it. Logically, she knew that it would shrink down eventually. What else could her body do but eventually burn away like a flame dying down?

Goosebumps rose on her skin. Then, shivers broke out in her muscles. Tears still in her eyes, Narcissa stood up out of the water and climbed out of the bath. Her feet left behind watery footprints on the stone floors behind her. Her mind registered that she should feel cold, but it was impossible. She felt only numb.

Narcissa's eyes swam, making the line of porcelain sinks fade into an endless grey. She floated for a moment, drifting in the ephemeral peace where she wished to remain. But then, with the same startling speed it had washed over her, the grey drained away, leaving behind the harsh reality that plagued her. Narcissa scowled into the mirror that appeared before her eyes. The grey was coming more and more now, increasing ever since she had started to kill herself inside. She liked the solitude that came with it, the freedom.

She leaned away from the mirror and walked towards where she had a towel, folded neatly next the the bath. Her skin felt over-sensitive against the rough fibers of the fabric. Immediately, she shrugged away the towel and sat on the stone floor. It was cooler to her skin than the air, and Narcissa noted that the numbness was gone, leaving behind a feeling of being trapped in skin that was too small for her body. A malevolent voice in her head hissed that it was because she had gained weight quickly, faster than her skin could grow. Despite the knowledge in her mind that this was impossible, Narcissa could not rid herself of the horrible feeling that accompanied the thought.

Her hair was lank down her back, almost completely translucent because it was wet. Narcissa stared at it with a slight frown adorning her face. She hated her hair. It was long enough, sure, but it was limp, lifeless, and always on the verge between wavy and straight.

Tears formed in her eyes once again even though she had already cried to much today. Narcissa cursed herself. She was a Black! She was a strong, prominent witch of society and she could not show pain. Not now. The world was a cruel place. If she showed it her weaknesses, it would tear her apart. She stood up again, not noticing the cramping in her legs that told her to sit back down and never stand again, to sink into the water one last time, and to relish in the serenity until it all faded away. Water dripped down her back in icy trails, but she ignored them.

She walked over to where she had dropped her towel and ran it briskly over her skin, drying away the remaining water. It was still rough, but Narcissa didn't care anymore. It simply didn't matter. She had greater things to be doing. She hardly noticed as she put on her night robe. Absently, she stared at the stained glass window, which was unusually bright with the full moon behind it, and the emerald green panels of light it cast on the floor. Hastily, she dug her hand into her pocket and withdrew a silver watch. As she stared at it, an emerald serpent darted across its face. As she fastened it around her wrist, the snake appeared on the face again, before slithering out of the face and circumnavigating the wristband. Then, as it resettled itself on the face once again, it froze in place, its ruby red eyes staring at the glass that housed it.

She hurried to the door. It was 2:58 AM, which meant she had plenty of time to get downstairs to the Slytherin dungeons before Pringle, the caretaker, would get back to searching the dungeons. Narcissa smiled, she pitied the fool, for he was inadvertently repetitious to the point of fault. Every night, staring a 2:00 AM and ending at 4:00 AM, Apollyon Pringle searched the castle, beginning at the dungeons and ending on the seventh floor. It was his foolishness that allowed Narcissa to spend her nights bathing in private, well-away from the prying stares of those who chose to waste their early mornings in the over-crowded bathrooms.

As she walked over to the door of the bathroom, Narcissa's feet made no sound. She pushed the door open as quietly as she could and slipped out, making no more noise than an owl's flight. She cast one last look at the bathroom before she hurried down the dark corridor, her nightgown billowing out behind her.

**-End-**

**This was written as part of a much longer story which I am yet undecided about posting. It is, as of now, only a oneshot. Also, if any of you believe that the content rating of this story should be changed, please comment.**


End file.
